The Warning
by reflekshun
Summary: The doctor was given a warning to give to Holmes. Who is doing this, and why?
1. Chapter 1

The Warning

Holmes' POV

I had returned to my shared rooms after a long and

tiresome day. It was a fruitless effort that yielded nothing

except exhaustion upon my part. I trudged up the stairs,

divested myself of my hat and coat, threw my stick in the

corner {where it landed with a satisfying thunk }, and headed

for my chair before the fire.

In a few minutes the heat and noise of the fire had almost

lulled me to sleep. I was pulled back to wakefulness as the

sitting room door flew open and Mrs. Hudson entered with a

tray. It was our supper tray, and this she placed on the table

and she began to arrange the dishes and the cutlery on the

table, chattering happily as she did so.

"The color of your dress becomes you.....is it a new one?

It must have been, for I did not remember her wearing it

before.

"Why, yes, Mr. Holmes, it is." Then she asked me what I

thought of her hair. I paused, incredulous. Something was in

the wind, and it could only be.....

"What is his name, Mrs. Hudson?"

"Edward. Edward Baker, sir. We met at the market when

we both tried to pick up the same bunch of carrots. {She

giggled and blushed very prettily here} He is to take me to

the theater tonight, and drop me off at the station so that I can

catch the train to Hearthstead to visit my sister. I'll be there

the weekend, and I should be back by Monday noon, sir."

She headed toward the door, but then turned. "Oh, and

when the doctor comes in, would you try to get him to eat a

bit? He's been looking a bit peaked lately. Good-bye, sir."

And then she was gone.

Watson's POV

The afternoon's patients had filed slowly out, leaving just

one lonely soul left, waiting his turn to see me. I beckoned to

him, and he got stiffly to his feet. He walked toward me with

a crab-like shuffle.

When he was a pace or two from me, he fell over

something, and plowed into me with more force than I could

credit that small frame with. As I grabbed the doorframe to

steady myself, I felt something rather solid connect with my

head.

When I came to myself, I found to my mortification, that I

had been securely trussed up and was lying face-down on my

own examination table. I can attest to it that this is not a very

dignified position to be in. I tried to be as observant as

possible under the circumstances, but all I could see was pant

legs and old shoes.

" Who are you, and what do you want?"

Nervous giggling answered my questions. Then I felt my

shirt being cut away. "Hang it all, that was a new shirt! Stop

this insanity....."

"Nothing insane about it, old boy." My captor had finally

decided to speak. " I need to write a note, and I think you'll

do fine as my paper. Now, stay still, or I shall be obliged to

cross out and begin again."

Well, this was quite inconvenient, but maybe it would not

be quite so bad-- that was when I realized with a thrill of

horror that a scalpel was working its way across my back.

Holmes' POV

About a quarter of an hour after the door had closed after

our esteemed landlady, there was a loud banging upon the

front door. Remembering that I was on my own after the

departure of Mrs. Hudson, I sighed and descended the stairs.

I hoped that Watson would hurry, supper looked good.

When I opened the door, all thoughts of food were driven

from my mind.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Shedoc- I will try to add more detail to my offering, and I

hope you like it. I have no idea why the print is all on one side of

the page. I just assumed that it must be a quirk of using Interoffice.

Magicdaisy, Literatech, KCS, 3Bee, and FroggyKnight, this is for

you. Enjoy.

Holmes' POV

I opened the door, and was amazed to see the man himself shoved

into my arms. I caught the semi-conscious man just in time to save

him from slithering back down the steps as his legs gave way.

Receding footsteps rang though the night, but my attention was

captivated by the man in my arms.

I quickly got him to the sofa in the front room and turned the gas

up. Dear God in heaven, I never expected to see so much blood!

I yelled to a young boy in the street. When he turned, I recognized

him as an Irregular.

"I need a doctor—now!"

With wide eyes he ran off to fetch one.

A low groan came from the couch. " Holmes......read my back."

He was lying on his stomach, and was naked from the waist up,

which made this much easier. I blinked. Those cuts on his back

WERE letters. My curiosity thoroughly roused, I read with interest

the most gory missive I have read yet.

"Don't take the case

And stay out of my way

Or both of you will live

To rue that day."

I just had time to read this when a young man with ginger colored

hair stepped through the front door, which was still open. He held

out his hand. "Dr. Palmer. Where is the patient?"

I led him to the sofa, where he worked over the form of my friend

quickly and quietly, pausing to murmur a comforting word to him

every now and again. Finally he straightened and addressed me.

"This is what I have done: he's got a shot of morphine under his

belt, so he will feel no pain for a few hours. His back has been

cleaned and bandaged. He has lost a lot of blood, so he will need

more rest and nourishment. Our enemy now is infection, so I will be

back daily to change the bandages, and to clean his back again. I

will also start him on a powerful course of antibiotics. I will also

leave some morphine here in case he needs it. Do you have any

questions?"

"No, I think you have addressed everything."

"Then I shall see you tomorrow. " He made his way to the door,

and stopped, addressing an unasked question. "You may depend

upon my discretion. I know when to keep my mouth firmly closed."

With that assurance, he disappeared into the night.

I turned and gathered my old friend in my arms. He was much

lighter than I thought he would be. I must start to remind him to eat.

Usually it was the other way 'round.

A cross between a sob and a giggle escaped his lips. "Steady on,

old man, you're safe now." Those eyes that had seen so much with

me opened. They rested on my face for a moment before they

fluttered closed again. "Holmes',he sighed. And then he slept.

I covered him up. He would stay in my room and I would make

myself comfortable in on the sofa. It would not be the first time.

I lay down on the couch. Thoughts were chasing each other in

my mind. Who would do this, and why to Watson? To get my

attention, perhaps? Well, he or she certainly succeeded in that.

Since I did not have any cases that I was currently working on, I

supposed that the warning was for a case that was coming my way.

As I could do nothing at the current time, I forced myself to try to

relax. Sometime in the early hours I fell into an uneasy slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, as it got too light in the room to really try to sleep,

I was surprised to hear a weak croak. "Holmes?" Immediately I was

at his side.

"Help me to rise, will you?"

"Only if you promise to go easy and take it slow, old boy." I

reached out to take his outstretched hand. He was no trouble to help

to his feet. He was too light for my liking, but we were not at the

table yet.

"No worries there. It hurts to move, but if I don't, I will be both

stiff and in pain. I promise that I won't overdo it, though."

We slowly walked out to the table. Miss Rose, a very good

informant of mine, was just bringing a tray laden with breakfast and

tea on it. {I had arranged for her to help me with the cooking and

looking after Watson. Being the motherly type, she was in her

element.}

"Watson, this is Miss Rose. She will be here to get you anything

you need. I think that you will have a lot in common. Miss Rose

studied to be a nurse."

"Well, it sounds like we will get along swimmingly."

She was arranging the dishes on the table. Watson looked on,

obviously liking what he saw in said dishes. Maybe it would not be

as hard as I thought to get him to eat.

"Will there be anything else, sirs?"

"No, Miss Rose, that will be all. Give your mother my regards."

"Thank you sir, I shall. I'll see you gentlemen later. Enjoy your

breakfast."

As the door closed, Holmes turned toward me. "Watson", he said

thoughtfully, " You are after me a lot of the time to eat something.

Now our positions are reversed. Therefore, here is the offer that I

will give you. I will eat whatever you do. I will match you slice of

bacon for slice of bacon, piece of toast for piece of toast. How does

that sound?"

"Holmes, you have got a good idea. We'll do just that." I was

not so enthusiastic about food right now, beyond looking at it, but if

it would induce Holmes to eat......

Holmes was as good as his word, and we both got down a good,

if light, breakfast.

After this, Holmes was keen to ask me about the previous

evening. "Watson, do you remember anything at all about what

happened to you?"

"Well, Holmes, there was just one man. He was a few inches

shorter than I am. He tripped on the way into the examination room

For a moment there, I got a good look at the color of them. They

were a bright green. Then he fell into me, and I guess I was hit on

the head. Next thing I know, I'm lying on my table, and he—he was

….."

"It's all right, old chap. He cannot hurt you now."

"It's very frustrating knowing that he is out there. He could be

anyone—besides eye color, anything else might have been a wig, or

any disguise—we don't even really know what he looks like."

My words were interrupted by the bell downstairs.

Holmes looked at his watch. "Watson, I've got to get that. I

will be back in a tic."

Holmes left and came back with Inspector Lestrade. After we

traded salutations, he got down to the point. "Mr. Holmes, there is a

kidnapping case that is stymieing us down at the Yard, and we'd

appreciate if you would look into it for us."

"A kidnapping?

"Mr. Holmes, the victims were all corpses!"

I felt the blood drain from my face.

A/N—I was wrong about the use of antibiotics when I mentioned

them earlier. Mea Culpa! I hope I spelled that right.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for all the reviews. I find them all instructive in some

way, if only to tell me that someone finds my 'poor scribblings' as

much fun to read as they are to write. Please enjoy Chapter the

Fourth.

" Lestrade, did you just say that the victims were corpses?"

"Yes, I did, Holmes. There is a lot of pressure being brought to

bear to solve this case, since the people involved are rather well-to-

do. They are breathing down the commissioner's neck, and he is

breathing down mine. This is what we know-- a group of thugs are

watching the papers. When they see that someone wealthy or

politically connected dies, they steal the body after it is buried. Then

they hold it for ransom. If the body is ransomed, the people who

have ransomed it are told where to find the body. It is always at

midnight in a crypt. When the people go to get the body, it looks

like it is set up for a funeral. There are candles burning, and there

are even flowers. The body is in an open casket, just as if someone

from the funeral parlor had placed it there. If the ransom is not

paid, there is a pile of ashes on the sofa in the house of the person

who did not pay the ransom."

"How many times has this occurred, and with what results?"

Holmes asked, very interested.

"Well,{at this, the shamefaced Inspector looked at his shoes. He

knew that Holmes would want to know why he had not come to him

before. He felt like the proverbial kid in the cookie jar.} it has only

happened three times. Twice the ransoms were paid, but in the third

case, it was not."

"When can you show me the place where the bodies were picked

up, and the place where the ashes were found?"

"Would tomorrow be alright?"

"Watson, do you feel you can …..."

Before the sentence was out of Holmes' mouth, Watson assured

him that he would be alright for a few hours on his own. He knew

Holmes was very interested in this case, and he really didn't have the

heart to tell him otherwise. And there was that novel that he had

been meaning to read......

"I'll pick you up tomorrow, then."

Holmes was sure that he heard a tone of relief in the Inspector's

voice.

"Inspector, I think that you have been run a bit ragged. Why

don't you get home and rest for a while. And I am sure that the

worthy Mrs. Lestrade will have a hot meal for you, even at such an

hour, for I see that you have not been home yet. Tomorrow we shall

see what we shall see."

" I think that that is very sound {and welcome} advice, sir.

Thank you. Doctor, do you feel well enough to give me your

statement tomorrow, when I come to pick up Mr. Holmes?"

" Oh, yes. If the hour were not so late, I could give it to you

now, but it can keep. You look practically run off your legs. Go

home, and get some rest."

Holmes walked to the door with the little official. As he was

coming back, I gave vent to the yawn I had been stifling while the

Inspector and Holmes were talking.

"Good Lord, Watson, you nearly unhooked your jaw!"

"I'm rather tired. Would you help me to bed?"

"Of course. I'm tired, too, now that you mention it. Come on,

old boy,....."

"Don't call me that...he called me that!" Tears ran freely down

my face. The storm was over as quickly as it had begun. I wiped

my face and looked up at a very surprised Holmes looking down at

me. I felt quite sheepish. "Holmes.......do you think it will ever be

over?"

"Dear fellow, I am so sorry. Yes,it will be over. You will get over

this, but please remember that you don't have to be alone." He

knelt down by my chair. "I have every faith in you."

"Thank you. That means more to me than I can tell you."

After he had helped me to bed, I heard him making himself a bed

in the other room. I think that that closeness helped me to sleep that

night.


	5. Chapter 5

The Warning, Chapter the Fifth.

Watson's POV

…..It was happening again. It shouldn't have been, but it was. I

was walking out to the waiting room in blessed ignorance of the

events that were about to occur. All I could do was watch the scene

unfolding before my eyes. The doctor in my dreams did not heed

my shouts.....I was destined to witness the hideous event again, it

seemed.

My attacker and I both fell, and I saw myself struggling on my

table. I/he strained against those cruel bonds, but it was useless.

The air was heavy with a sense of apprehension as my shirt was cut

off of me. We exchanged words, and my captor crossed to the other

side of the table.....when he started to.....when he cut into my flesh, I

think we, both of us screamed.

Holmes was at my side in less time than it takes to say so.

"Watson, you are all right now. It is over." He sat on the bed

facing me and drew me to him. One hand slipped around to my

back, but quickly and fluidly repositioned itself on my upper arm.

He rubbed my arm with one hand, and held me to him with the

other, gently rocking me back and forth. When my shaking stopped,

or at least slowed down to his satisfaction, he held me at arm's

length and appraised me seriously.

He sat me back against the pillows that he had wordlessly picked

up from the floor {along with most of the bedclothes.} I could hear

something being poured in the next room, and he reappeared by my

side with two glasses of brandy. He held one out to me, and I took it

eagerly. I noticed that Holmes' eyebrows rose just a bit when I

drained the glass in one gulp, but said nothing. He sat down by me

and waited for me to compose myself.

Just then, something from that nightmare pushed its way to the

forefront of my attention.

"Holmes, I remember now! Something that just might help in

some small way!" I no longer felt like a useless victim, and, by

thunder, it was wonderful!

"What is it, my dear chap? Are you sure that you want to discuss

this now?"

"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! Holmes, he had a hobble. When

I saw his shoes, it was obvious to me that he had had one of them

built up. And from the shape of it, it was a custom-made shoe!" The

words just spilled out of me in my excitement. "So now we know

that we are looking for someone who is wealthier than the working-

class brute that he appeared to be. And that also means that someone

somewhere has a record of that shoe being made!"

"Excellent, old man, excellent! Anything else?"

"No, I'm afraid not, but is that enough for a starting-point?

Surely something can come out of it?" I did not want to think that I

was an unwilling witness to such nocturnal events for nothing.

" Yes, old chap, it will make a very good starting-point, actually.

I'll use that information in my investigation of this debacle, but that

will have to wait until tomorrow."

He saw the unspoken beginnings of anxiety in my eyes, and

disappeared into the next room again. When he came back, he was

carrying a pillow and an afghan. He settled himself in the chair by

the bed, put his feet up on said bed, and turned to me.

"Now get some rest. I have seen you stifle at least four yawns,

and I know that you must be tired." He drew the afghan around his

shoulders. "Rest now, and dream of Mrs. Hudson's cooking. She

will be returning tomorrow, you know."

I did relax, and fell into a {thankfully} dreamless sleep.

A/N : Thanks for all the support, and all of the reviews. I really

enjoyed them, and I hope that you are enjoying this story as much.


	6. Chapter 6

The Warning, Chapter the Sixth

Watson's POV

I was gently awakened by the scents and sounds of Mrs.

Hudson's cooking. Lazily, I lay in bed listening to the

clinking of dishes and savoring the delicious aromas wafting

up the stairs. Presently I heard the soft sound of footfalls

ascending the stairs. Mrs. Hudson knocked upon the

bedroom door just as I finished tying the belt of my dressing-

gown.

"Oh, doctor, Mr. Holmes said that you had been attacked

….." She caught me up in a loose embrace. Apparently she

did not want to cause me any discomfort.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson, you are a sight for sore eyes. How was

your visit? Your sister is doing well, I trust?"

"My sister had a beautiful baby boy, and she named him

after you.....Evan John Wilson. That young one is so cute,

like a chubby little angel. My visit was just the getaway I

needed."

She was guiding me to the table as she spoke.

"Now, then doctor, just sit down and enjoy your breakfast.

If you need anything, just holler like Mr. Holmes does." She

chuckled and pulled my chair out for me. I lowered myself

gently into it. " How are you feeling, Doctor?" She fixed me

with a look that could penetrate metal. "And remember its me

you're talking to."

"I'm doing better, Mrs. Hudson. Its coming along slowly

but surely. Dr. Palmer's ministrations are helping

immeasurably- he stops be every day to clean my back with

antiseptic and change the bandages."

I fixed her with an equally piercing gaze. "Holmes has

been telling me you have got yourself a beau. Come on now,

out with it. Tell me about this fellow. And don't forget who

YOU are talking to." We both chuckled, but she blushed a

fetching shade of pink, and lowered her gaze.

"Well, there isn't really very much to tell, Doctor. Mr.

Holmes told you how we met by the carrot stand on market

day, didn't he? Ah, I thought so. Well, he took me to the

theater, and dropped me off at the train station. He's a perfect

gentleman, he is. Held every door we came to for me. He's

even brought me flowers and held my seat for me and pushed

me to the table. I just can't wait for you to meet him. He's

taking me out tomorrow night, so you will see him when he

comes to pick me up."

She had been serving out while she was talking.

"I cooked your favorites, now eat up."

It took a while, but under her no-nonsense but caring gaze,

I finished the eggs, toast, bacon, and tea that she had set out

for me.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes went out early with Inspector

Lestrade. He said that they would both be here for supper."

There was a knock at the front door. "That will be Dr.

Palmer. He comes about the same time every day. I'm so

glad that he's helping you."

As she spoke, she had been heading toward the door. She

descended the stairs, and I heard her admit my fellow medico.

After some chatter, I heard footsteps on the stairs and Dr.

Palmer entered.

"And how are you feeling on this beautiful day?"He was

attired in a neat gray suit with a maroon tie. As he spoke, he

put the things he would need on the table.

"Much better, thanks to your kind attention."

"It is not a problem but tell me, does this type of thing

happen often?"

"No. I have been shot, stabbed, poisoned, and beaten, but

never before have I been used as stationary."

After the good doctor had finished cleaning and bandaging

my back, I felt in need of a nap. When I woke up, the clock

told me that almost four hours had passed.

A few minutes later, Holmes and Lestrade walked in.

" Well, Holmes, how did things go on your end?"


	7. Chapter 7

The Warning,Chapter the Seventh.

Holmes' POV

The Inspector arrived earlier than I thought he would. Happily, I

was already up and dressed. He held the door for Mrs. Hudson, who

was bringing up the breakfast tray. I do not know how she knew that

the Inspector would join us, but the tray was set for three. [The

woman was simply uncanny sometimes.]

After exchanging pleasantries, we both sat down to give the tray

our attention.

"Where are we headed to first? Hand me some toast, please. Ah,

thank you."

"Hand me the cream, will you? Right outside Sussex there is a

charming hamlet by the name of Kirkdale. We will start there.

That".....here he checked his notes "would be the Hightowers. They

are the family that did not pay the ransom, and they found a pile of

ashes on their sofa in the parlour."

"Ah, yes. I solved a small problem for them a few years back. It

concerned a stolen ring, if I remember correctly. Which Hightower

was the deceased?"

"Oh, that would be Sir Charles. After we see the Hightowers, we

will head over to Berkshire Heights to talk to the Robinsons. Then

we will ho over to take the statements of the Anderworths. These

two families paid the ransom, and the dear departed was left in a

crypt for them to collect. Of all the ghastly operations I have run

into....." He shook his head. "They say that there is nothing new

under the sun, and that everything has been done before, but this is

the first that I have heard of this particular scheme. Are you ready,

then?"

Holmes nodded, and they were off. They left quietly, however,

so as not to wake Watson.

After a seemingly endless drive through the countryside, Holmes

was glad to leave the confines of the growler to stretch his long legs.

"This way", said Lestrade, heading toward the main house. Our

arrival was anticipated, for the staff, as well as the esteemed couple

themselves, were waiting for us in the parlour.

Lestrade spoke up. "Holmes, you remember Mr. and Mrs.

Hightower."

"Ah, yes" said Mr. Hightower "Mr Holmes cleverly unmasked a

thief after a fancy dress party about three years ago. Perhaps you

can make sense of this."

Mrs. Hightower had burst into sobs as soon as her husband had

started to speak. She punctuated her tears with quite loud bouts of

nose-blowing. [which brought to mind a Mallard being stepped on ]

A servant, maybe the maid, came over and led Mrs. Hightower over

to an out of the way chair and began to speak soothingly and rub her

back. She handed her clean handkerchiefs at appropriate intervals.

Mr. Hightower launched into his tale. "Well, what happened is

this: Charles, Emma's brother died of a heart attack. The day after

the funeral, a note was discovered on the front steps." He dug in his

pocket and handed Holmes the note. "You will see it is quite

straightforward."

Holmes looked at the note. It was written in a forceful hand in

block letters. It read as follows: If you want the remains of Sir

Charles Hightower back, leave the sum of 25,000 pounds on the

sundial by the Rossburn Mausoleum at midnight. If you do not, you

might not like what you find tomorrow. Choose wisely, for you will

not get a second chance.

"What was your reaction to this letter ?"

"Well,we stood on principle, so we did not let sentimentality

sway us We did not give in to these demands."

The fresh sobs that came from Mrs. Hightower led Holmes and

the inspector to believe that she did not share her husband's opinion.

" And what was the result of this?" Incredibly, the sobs grew

even louder.

"Yesterday morning we came downstairs as usual and found a

heap of ashes on the sofa. We also found his watch, wedding ring,

and a few buttons. They were scooped up and are in this urn here."

He paused and spoke in a whisper. "Perhaps you could take this urn

as evidence or something. Just glancing at this is enough to make

the Missus nearly hysterical. I know she is grieving, but this just

seems to make things worse. Women are such mysteries, don't you

agree?"

A/N- Thanks a lot, Cat.


	8. Chapter 8

Now all that remained to be done was to speak to the servants.

We needed to ascertain if anyone saw or heard anything relevant to

the atrocity which had been committed. Astonishingly, no one heard

or saw anything. The cook claimed that she had a premonition of a

"grave misfortune", but we could find nothing solid, besides the fact

that there were four servants:Lydia Haversham, the cook, Marie,

Stuart, the maid, Albert Langham, the stableboy, and Peter

O'Malley. He was the butler.

As we were done here, we headed for New Berkshire to speak to

the Robinsons and the Anderworths. As the growler started to move,

Mr. Hightower thrust the urn into Holmes' lap. He caught hold of it

just in time to prevent a nasty spill.

We got to the Robinson estate first. These people seemed to be

very snobbish. There were seven maids, five housekeepers, eight

butlers, three cooks, two footmen, four stableboys, a personal

servant for each Robinson, and a nanny. {I never knew it took

thirty-two people to look after two adults and an infant. Really,

some people have more money than the sense God gave them.}

The staff was waiting in the library for our arrival, and again, no

one noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Peters, one of the butlers had picked up the post as usual. One of

the letters was the ransom note. It bore no stamp, and did not differ

from the one received by the Hightowers. The only difference was

the name of the dear departed. In this case, the deceased was Miss

Minerva Robinson. Aged thirty-six, she succumbed to pneumonia.

"Can you tell me what happened the day you received the letter?"

Mr. Robinson sniffed, as if to show how put upon he was by the

question. "I don't know why I should repeat this very trying affair

for a curious _amateur_."

{All right, he asked for it. And I was in the mood to give it to

him. But I used a great deal of restraint. }

"This "amateur" has a very good record both independently and

in tandem with the official force. He is working with me now as a

personal favour ; however, if you do not wish this "trying affair" to

be investigated, then so be it. This would cast you in a quite

questionable light, either foolish or criminal, depending upon how

you look at it. Would you reconsider answering the question ?"

Holmes glanced over at me. I think he was slightly surprised, but

he recovered himself quickly and said nothing.

"In that case, I'll go through this all again." came Mr. Robinson's

nasal whine.

{I stifled a smile.}

"Well, I got the money together. After all, she WAS my sister. I

left it on the sundial at midnight, just as the note said. There was a

note on the instrument. It told me where we could find Minerva's

body. It was in the Rossburn mausoleum. It looked like we had

walked into a funeral. There were flowers and candles. There was

even a sympathy card in Minerva's hand. We quietly had her

re-interred the next day. I believe that is all. Did I leave anything

out, dear?"

"No, darling, not at all," Mrs. Robinson answered with a much

put upon sniff just like her husbands.

{Must be a family thing. I felt Holmes' light touch on the back of

my neck. I guess he came to the same conclusion. }

"Well, we need not take up any more of your time," said Holmes,

looking pointedly at Mr. Robinson. " Thank you for your

cooperation. " The butler showed them out. When they were back

in the growler, they breathed a sigh of relief. It was good not to feel

looked down upon. "I was wondering if we were going to be shown

the tradesman's door." ventured Lestrade. There was a chuckle in

response.

Lestrade gave an address to the driver, and we were off to see

what the Anderworths had to say.


	9. Chapter 9

We finally got to the Anderworth's. The house was nice, well

Maintained, but not pretentious. {Praise be!} There were some servants, but certainly not as many as the Robinsons

had.

Mr. Anderworth strode over to greet them as they walked up the stone path that led to the front steps.

"Inspector, nice to see you again. Is there anything else

that you require, or have you caught the blackguards? You'll

let me know when you catch up to them, won't you? I'd like to

give them a piece of my mind when you do. Yes, there are one or two things that I would like them to know."

"No, I'm afraid that the miscreants are still at liberty, but we

have hopes. This is Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He is working with me to clear this heinous matter up. Would you tell him what you told me yesterday?"

"Why, yes, of course. It is a wise man who knows when to ask for someone to work with him."

Turning to Holmes, he said "I've heard of you and read of your exploits in the _Strand_. If there is any possibility or helping to solve this dastardly deed, we will answer any questions that you may have."

"Thank you. Your cooperation is most refreshing. It is also most welcome."

Mr Anderworth launched into his narrative. "It's like this, sir. My Uncle Theodore died recently. After his funeral, I picked up the post as usual. There was a letter that stood out a bit, because it was written in block print, and it did not have a stamp upon it. I opened it up, and......Well, here it is, see for yourself."

He handed Holmes an envelope. After examining the envelope, Holmes opened it, and began to read.

"If you want the body of Mr. Theodore Barker back, leave

the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds on the sundial by the old Rossburn Mausoleum. Do so at midnight tonight, or you may not like what you find tomorrow. Choose wisely, for you will not get a second chance."

"Well, I did just as the note said. I left the money on the sundial, and found instructions on where to find Uncle. He was in the Rossburn Mausoleum. There were flowers and candles. Uncle even had a sympathy card in his hand. Oh, and his favourite incense was burning. We brought him home and reburied him the next day. And there has been no more contact from whoever it was who wrote the note."

Again, there was nothing left to do except to talk to the staff. There was a butler and a maid,so it was a shorter job this time. The staff seemed to be more eager to help us, but they didn't see or hear anything unusual before or after the letter arrived.

We got back into the growler. Lestrade again gave the driver an address, and we were off.

"Where to now, Lestrade? We've talked to all three families. "

"Well, I thought you might be interested in seeing the sundial by the mausoleum, as well as the mausoleum itself. I've already spoken with the Rossburn family, and they don't have any objection at all if we look around in both places. Ah, we seem to have arrived."

As they got out, a matronly woman came out to meet them. She had been planting flowers at some of the family graves. She was wiping her hands as she approached us.

"Inspector, it is a bit muddy down here at the bottom of the little hill, so watch your footing."

"Miss Rossburn, may I introduce you to Mr. Sherlock Holmes? He is looking into this matter with me."

Holmes had already examined the sundial,and was just putting his lens back into his pocket. " I think that I've seen everything here. May we proceed to the mausoleum?"

"Why, yes." she said, leading the way. About five feet from the doorway, he bade us stop.

"There are footprints here, but whose they are I cannot tell. Two families, presumably with servants have been through here. So have the miscreants. Have your men been through here yet?"

"No, I could not get approval from the Yard to bring them here until later today. A matter or jurisdiction had to be cleared up first."

"Besides the fact that there were three of the reprobates, these tracks tell me nothing much. My word! Look at the shape of this beauty. Its owner must have quite a is a very pronounced club foot."

Looking at the expression on his face, I resolved never to get on his bad side. One sure way to do this was to mess with Watson. HIS Watson.

Bringing my mind back to the task at hand, I suggested that it would be a good idea to get inside.

We all followed Miss Rossburn into the mausoleum.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Well, here is Chapter 10. I hope you enjoy reading it as

much as I did putting it together.

The Warning, Chapter the Tenth.

The mausoleum was a small one, but very well kept up.

As soon as you walked in, there were three steps down. The

mausoleum itself was made of marble. It was well-lit, and there was an empty coffin upon a catafalque just a few paces

later.

"That is Grandmama's coffin! But where is Grandmama?"

Miss Rossburn began to sob quietly.

A thorough search was made, but the missing corpse was not found. Lestrade thought that the corpse may never be found, but wisely opted to keep this thought to himself.

Holmes was looking at something by the coffin. "Lestrade, would you come here, please?" The little man did as he was bidden.

"Inspector, do you see all the flowers around here? I can easily count twenty vases of them. Perhaps we can trace these miscreants by finding out where they were purchased."

The blooms were searched for the accompanying card, but

no card was to be found.

"Apparently the people that we seek pay attention to detail," Holmes offered. "Well, I believe we have seen everything that there is to see here. Thank you for your cooperation, madam."

"You will look for Grandmama, will you not?"

"Of course we will,"Lestrade assured the distraught

woman. "Some men are to come out here with me later, and we will look more extensively, and let you know how we fare."

"Oh, thank you, thank you. This means the world to me. I just adored her before she died, and to think that....." She dissolved into more quiet tears.

Looking back as the growler departed, they saw her alternately crying into and waving her white handkerchief.

"Well, Holmes, what do you make of all this?"

"This promises to be an interesting investigation, Inspector."

"Oh, how is the doctor doing? Do you think he is up to giving me a statement yet?"

"Definitely. No matter what, he feels very strongly about the capture and punishment for this particular criminal. I think that he would happily do anything you need, if it would help."

"I don't blame him. I heard it was a particularly bloody assault. I want whoever did that behind bars, the sooner, the better."

"We are after the same people who perpetrated this horror."

"WHAT? " squeaked the smaller man.

"Yes. Watson was able to tell me that the man limped, and that his shoe was built up. Also, the cuts on his back were actually letters. Someone cut a warning telling us to stay away from this case into his back."

Lestrade's face was bloodless. "Oh, my good Lord," he said in hushed tones. What sort of a ghoul are we after, do you think?"

"We are after a right-handed man with a club foot. He is accompanied by two others. One of them is more well-to-do,

but it is the third one that interests me. By all the signs, it is a young woman.

Lestrade was shocked. "A woman—involved in such a ghoulish business as this—Holmes, are you sure?"

"Men do not usually wear high heels, Lestrade. And the fact that she accompanied these two men to such an outre crime scene tells us two things. One, that she is probably the brains in this, and two, that she does not trust them too far."

"Holmes, this is fantastical. I'd have thought that it might be something the Professor dreamed up, but he really is not in a position to do this, is he?"

"No, he is not, but this case sounds like something the late

Mr. Moriarty would have done. If he could..... Well, we seem to be back to our starting point, Lestrade."

They got out and hastened up the familiar seventeen steps to the sitting room.

Seeing Watson in his chair was a sight for sore eyes to both men, who worried about him more than they would admit to.

Before anyone had time to sit down, there was a tap at the door. Lestrade, who was closest, opened it and Mrs. Hudson came in bearing a lunch tray for three. There was a tureen of soup, steak and kidney pie, a roly-poly pudding, and a pot of tea.

"Mrs. Hudson, you are truly an angel among us," said Watson, looking at the tray intently.

"And you are a silver-tongued devil, Doctor", she said , smiling. "Thank you."

Serious talk was left until after the meal was over. The men gathered around the table and rendered ruthless and swift justice to the food before them.

After a pipe, when the dishes had been cleared and Mrs. Hudson had taken them down to the kitchen, Holmes filled Watson in on the very eventful day he and Lestrade had had.

After a moment, Lestrade spoke up. "Doctor, do you feel up to giving me a statement?"

"Of course. I've been hoping you had the time to take one today." He recounted for the little man just what had happened. Knowing that he would never ask, but still be burning with curiosity all the same, Watson took a deep breath, unfastened his shirt, and took it off. Then he leaned forward and motioned for Lestrade to stand behind his chair. "I don't know if you can still read it. It has been itching a lot lately, so something is going on back there. If you can't read it, Holmes can tell you what it said. Right, Holmes?"

"Oh, yes, old man." He leaned forward, looking intently at the doctor's back. "This spot here between your shoulders is very red, and it looks very painful."

"Oh, yes. It feels like there is a red-hot poker back there. I will mention it to Dr. Palmer when he comes today, but I am afraid that he will say that it is infected."

A/N- Well, that is chapter 10. As soon as I get five more reviews to inspire me, I'll send chapter 11 to Cat to be looked over. I hope that you had as much enjoyment reading this as I had putting it together. A bit of inspiration for this came from Eyebrows2. All of you who reviewed { and you know who you are }, thank you for your support.


	11. Chapter 11

. Holmes waited for the doctor to get done with Watson. Sitting outside the Doctor's room on the steps was not very comfortable, and he was reminded of a child sitting on the stairs,evesdropping when company came and the 'grown-ups' were talking. He wasn't listening, but heard snatches of conversation. " …..hurts like hell to move my shoulders. Itches, too. I thought that there was something going on back there....." "This must improve soon or you'll have to go to hospital....." "oooh, that tickles...OUCH! Oh, no......well, if it will help." "Yes, it will. You are all done. Is there anything else that you need?" The answering voice had sunk down to a croak, and from that to a low whisper.

"Morphine, thought Holmes. That is not too good. Watson does not like to use it." Holmes had seen Watson refuse the drug when he was in obvious pain.

Long moments passed, and finally the doctor appeared.

"Ah, Dr. Palmer, how is he?"

"It is as I had feared. Infection has set in, and I hope that the potassium permanganate I put on his back will take care of that after a few more applications. Oh, and forgive me if the sheets that he uses are a lovely shade of magenta in places by morning. He has had another dose of morphine, and he is resting now. I have left some more morphine in case he needs it." Lowering his voice, he said "Mr. Holmes, I need to talk to you. I need your advice. Is there a place that we may speak privately?"

I nodded, and led him down to the sitting room. He paced before the fire. "I don't quite know where to start."

"The beginning is always best," I prompted.

" All right. Well, this morning a young lady came to see me. She told me that if I valued the health and well-being of my family, I should do everything in my power to assure the doctor's health declines if you do not leave her and her agents alone. Who they were, she did not say. She said that she had already contacted you about this. She also said I was to do nothing until she contacts me again. I am not to share this knowledge with you or anyone else, but I felt I had to. I just could not do otherwise, and still sleep at night."

"You did very well, and I thank you for daring to take the course that you did. Now I have a question for you, doctor. How far are you willing to go to protect your family and your patient?"

"I have thought long and hard about that, and there can only be one answer. I am willing to do whatever you tell me to do. My family and I are in your hands, and will do anything you deem necessary."

"Capital, capital," Homes said, rubbing his thin hands together.

Dr. Palmer could hardly credit his own ears when the detective remarked calmly "There is only one outcome that is acceptable to these ghouls that we are dealing with. Therefore, the doctor must die!"

A/N I bet you didn't see that one coming! Cat, KCS, Eyebrows2 and Bartimus, thanks for your reviews, support, and inspiration. Blessings upon your heads.


	12. Chapter 12

The Warning, Chapter the Twelfth

Lestrade's POV

I stood outside 221B Baker Street, wondering just what it was that Holmes wanted. He had sent me a note to come, and Holmes is not one to ignore. Not if you know what is good for you. In my experience, you do this at your own peril.

It was late in the afternoon when I cleared my desk and caught a cab to Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson opened the door.

"Ah, Inspector, come on in. Give me your coat, and I'll hang it up to dry. Great weather out there for ducks, isn't it? Go on up, I expect you know the way by now. I'll be up in a moment with a tray." So saying, she had retreated to her domain. The trays that came out of that kitchen were legendary. I could not help but wonder what she would favour us with on this one.

I trudged up the stairs. It was only a little after three, but it had been a tiring day, and I was bone-weary. All of these tiring days lately were adding up.

Before I had a chance to knock on the sitting-room door, it was whipped open. Holmes took in my soaked clothing and bade me sit in the chair by the fire.

"It is a long story, Lestrade, and it would be easier to hear and concentrate upon if you are comfortable. Also, so as not to have to explain this twice, I've been waiting for the doctor to wake up and come out here."

There was a knock at the door. Holmes opened it to admit Mrs. Hudson. True to her word, she carried a large tray. She served out an early supper of Shepherd's pie, homemade bread,a rich chocolate cake, and tea. As she finished setting out the dishes, the door opened and Watson slowly walked in.

Holmes went to him and helped him to his chair. "I trust you have slept well? The Inspector is here to help design our campaign against the evildoers that we seek. There have been developments that you both need to hear about."

"Developments, Holmes? Has there been another kidnapping?" His brow furrowed, and he answered his own question. "No, Lestrade would be the one to tell us that. Holmes, what have you found out?" asked Watson.

Holmes and Lestrade joined him at the table.

"Dr. Palmer told me that his family is in a dangerous situation. If I get close to finding those we seek, his family will be harmed. Dr. Palmer has instructions to dispatch you, Watson, in that event. To defuse this explosive situation, this is what I propose. I propose that we kill you, Watson, and this is how we'll do it....."

"Oh, have you thought this out, Holmes?" chortled the doctor.

"Oh, yes, doctor. I often fantasize about killing you, just as an intellectual exercise, you understand. I think if these people tell Dr. Palmer to assure your demise, we should spread the word that you have died. Black armbands at the Yard, the whole nine yards. We can hold the wake here. We need to make this as real as we can, for we are not dealing with idiots."

Lestrade got the idea. "We draw them out, and when they come to see the other good doctor's handiwork for themselves, we nab them!"

"Right, you are ,Inspector. Right you are."

From the look in Holmes' eyes, Watson and Lestrade almost, but not quite, felt sorry for his prey.

Holmes shook off his thoughts and stood up. "Until they contact Dr. Palmer, we can do nothing. But when they do, we'll have a plan to put into action. This is a dangerous plan, so is everyone in agreement?"

"I'm in."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, old man."

Holmes looked thoughtful. "In the eventuality that we do use this plan, I shall have to apprise Mrs. Hudson."

Watson stifled a grin, recalling the words our worthy landlady had had for her erstwhile lodger upon his return. His death had caused quite a few ripples in their little family, but most of them were smoothed over by now. At least he thought they were.

Just then, there was a tap on the door. Lestrade opened the door to reveal Mrs. Hudson with a man a few years younger than she was, but not many. He was about Watson's height, and he was slightly built. He had green eyes and blond hair.

"I'd like to introduce you to a very good friend of mine. Gentlemen, this is Mr. Edward Baker. Edward, this is Inspector Lestrade, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and Dr. Watson.

As Edward stepped forward to shake their hands, they could not help but notice his limp. He saw this at once.

"Polio," he said cheerfully by way of an explanation. "I got it when I was just a lad, but it left me with a souvenier."

Dr. Watson wanted very much to back up, maybe to his room, but he told himself that it was socially unacceptable. He therefore shook the proffered hand.

"Please sit down, Mr. Baker, Mrs. Hudson." Holmes offered.

"No, we'd better be leaving if we don't want to be late. Good to meet you, gentlemen."

"Yes, you're right. I'll just get my wrap and my bag on the way out," Mrs. Hudson replied, and she and her beau took their leave.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Watson turned to Holmes. "That was him!"

A/N I want to thank everyone who reviewed, as well as Cat, my beta. A special thank you to Sherlockholmesfan1, who gave me an idea for this little plot twist.


	13. Chapter 13

The Warning, Chapter the Thirteenth.

That was all Holmes needed to hear. In a flash, he sprinted to the top of the stairs and launched himself at the slightly smaller man, who had just finished descending the stairs. Holmes tackled him, landing squarely on his back, and the two of them tumbled to the bottom of the stairs in a heap.

Attracted by the noise, Mrs. Hudson emerged from the hall, and Watson gently pulled her out of the way and sat her on the sofa in the parlour. Then he ran, or rather walked quickly, to the stairs to see what he could do.

Holmes was getting to his feet as Watson reached the stairs.

"It is all right. He's sleeping like a baby," observed Lestrade, getting out hes derbies and kneeling to put them on

the limp form.

" When he wakes up, I have a few questions to put to him," drawled the detective. "Watson, how is Mrs. Hudson?"

"Holmes, she is quite hurt and confused. I left her sitting on the sofa. I should get back to her--"

He turned and ran smack into Mrs. Hudson, who had come out when the noise stopped to see what was going on. She had a look of grim determination on her face.

Their captive was just starting to stir. Mrs. Hudson waited patiently until he was fully awake, and then she stepped forward.

The others tensed, and backed up a bit. They knew something was in the wind, and it did not bode well for Edward.

"You swine. You miserable swine. You set me up to get information. You played me for a fool. Worst of all, you attacked someone I care about. There is no excuse for your depravity, you......you swine!

With that, she turned on her heel. Then she heard him snigger. Suddenly she pivoted and let fly. With a sound like a baseball bat hitting its mark, Edward's head bounced off the banister and he went down like a sack of potatoes.

"Like the spineless craven that he is,"sniffed Mrs. Hudson, heading for the kitchen. She took a shortcut over Edward's face in passing. Awestruck, the men watched her leave.

After Lestrade had left with his still-unconscious prisoner, Watson had declared that he needed a nap. Suiting his actions to his words, he retired to his room. Holmes made himself comfortable with a book in the sitting-room. He was totally absorbed when he heard a soft tap on the door.

He opened the door to find Dr. Palmer standing outside.

"Mr. Holmes, she came by again, just a few minutes ago. I was just getting my bag ready to come here and attend to Dr. Watson when she came into my office by a side door."

Holmes motioned him to a chair. He sat, and continued speaking. "She swept in like she owned the place, sat down, put a cigarette in her holder and leaned forward so that I could light it. 'Some developments have occurred that make it necessary to hasten the good doctor's shuffling off of this mortal coil.' She rose and flung the cigarette into the fire for emphasis. 'And you DO remember what we talked about at our last meeting. Since you know what to do, it would be rather redundant for me to repeat it. Good day, doctor.' As soon as she left, I scooped up the cigarette and put it in a test tube. Here it is. I don't know what you can glean from it, but Wiggins swears that you can do the impossible." He handed Holmes a test tube. "Then I gathered up what I needed to treat Dr. Watson, and came directly to see you. I didn't see anyone, but I think that I'm being followed. What do I do now?"

"Just what we need to do to keep your family safe. You'll take care of Watson as usual. When you are done here, you will go about your business as you usually do. That is important. You must adhere to your routine. I will take care of the details, the less you know right now, the better. Just trust me."

Reassured, the doctor collected his bag and headed towards Watson's room.

A/N- I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did to put it together. Again, thank you Cat, and everyone who reviewed.


	14. Chapter 14

The Warning, Chapter the Fourteenth.

About three quarters of an hour later, Dr. Palmer came back to the sitting-room to bid me good night.

"How is he?"

"Well, his back seems to be improving. The infection, although uncomfortable, is no longer life-threatening. Now I need to ask you something., Mr. Holmes. If this woman wants to know how the doctor is, what do I tell her?"

"Tell her that infection has set in, and that his condition is grave."

"And what method were you to use in dispatching the good doctor?"

"She never did say specifically, but she said that it had to look natural, and that she'd leave the rest in my capable hands."

"I see. Oh, your family--they have not been bothered?"

"No, they have been kept in the dark, and are blissfully unaware."

Holmes was itching to know how Dr. Palmer knew Wiggins, but he thought he had better ask about it another time.

"Then let me detain you no longer. Good night, Dr. Palmer."

"Good night, sir."

Holmes rang for tea and asked Mrs. Hudson to join him at the table. As soon as she had poured out and sat down, he began to outline the plan he had discussed with Lestrade. When he was done, he said "Mrs. Hudson, thank you for letting us hold this affair here. Lestrade is going to provide the coffin, and I am to pick up the flowers tomorrow."

"And what," asked Mrs. Hudson, "am I to do?"

"Dress appropriately and be convincing. I suggest that we get a good night's sleep in preparation for our big day tomorrow."

As Holmes rose, she grasped his hand for a moment to get his attention. "Thank you for letting me know about this, Mr. Holmes. I really appreciate it, and I'll do whatever I can to help. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some baking to do. This DOES have to be convincing, you know."

With a grin, she left Holmes to his own thoughts.

Holmes smiled as the door closed. This had been easier than he had hoped it would. He yawned and headed for his bedroom. There was a lot to do tomorrow, and rest sounded like a good idea.

He was awakened by a crash and the slamming of the front door. It had a distinctive KERTHUNKETA to it. He grabbed his robe from the chair by the door, and ran toward the landing, pulling it on as he went. When he reached the landing, he froze for a moment. Nothing could have prepared him for what met his eyes.

Mrs. Hudson lay sprawled at the bottom of the stairs. Her upturned face was befouled by a muddy bootprint.

Holmes ran back upstairs to get Watson. He thundered up to Watson's door and was not too surprised to find it ajar. What did surprise him was the empty bed with a note on the pillow. He picked it up with trembling hands and read:

" Mr. Holmes

If you want to see Dr. Watson again, come alone and unarmed to the Rossburn Mausoleum at midnight tonight. If you do not, you might not like what you find tomorrow morning. You will not be given another chance, so choose wisely."

It was signed 'P. Moriarty'.


	15. Chapter 15

The Warning, Chapter the Fifteenth

Holmes ran back to Mrs. Hudson, who was beginning to stir. He picked up the small woman and put her on the couch, and went to the door. He opened it as Wiggins was just about to knock.

"Blimey, Mister 'Olmes, you sure did put a scare in me..."

"Wiggins, I need a doctor for Mrs. Hudson right now. Get Dr. Palmer, and I will explain later. Go!"

Wiggins went.

Holmes headed back to Mrs. Hudson, who was awake and struggling to sit up. Holmes gently pushed her back down on the couch. "The doctor is on his way. What happened here?"

" They took him, sir! The doctor....."She brought her hands to her face and began to sob quietly into them. With an effort she composed herself and turned to Holmes.

"I was just finishing up the baking, when I heard a commotion on the stairs. Two people were coming down the stairs, half-carrying and half-dragging him. The next thing I knew, I felt something hard in my face, and then I was waking up here. Oh, Lord, but my head hurts."

"Stay still, Mrs. Hudson. I sent Wiggins for Dr. Palmer. He should be here soon."

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Now, dear lady, let us take a look at you." Dr. Palmer stepped through the front door, which Holmes had left ajar for him.

Holmes joined Wiggins by the door. He didn't want to get too far away, but he did want to give them some privacy.

"Well?" Wiggins was fairly vibrating with equal parts cold, curiosity , and suppressed excitement.

After Holmes had given a brief explanation, Wiggins was suitably awed.

"Wiggins, I need you to do something for me. This gang is very dangerous and quite ruthless as well. Therefore, I want you to be extremely careful. I need you to keep watch on Mrs. Hudson. I need to go out tonight, but I don't want her to be unprotected. Can you and a few of the boys sit with her while I am gone?" He pressed a few sovereigns into Wiggins' hand.

"Oh, aye, Gov. What time do you need us for?"

"As soon as possible."

"Righto."

Wiggins left to find his friends.

Holmes was lost in thought about what his night's activities would consist of. His musings were interrupted by Dr. Palmer's presence.

"Um, sir?"

"Yes, how is she?"

"With some rest, she will be all right. She was knocked about a bit, but she was shaken up most of all. She has quite a bruise on her face, but, fortunately, nothing was broken. I've given her a dose of laudanum to calm her down so that she can rest."

"Good. I have business to attend to tonight, and this makes leaving the house much easier. Two people came in and kidnapped Dr. Watson. When Mrs. Hudson surprised them, one of them kicked her in the face. I think that you should make arrangements for your family to be elsewhere for a few days."

"Oh, good God! You're right, I need to see to my family. Good day!"

The man ran off to do just that.

As soon as there was someone there to stay with Mrs. Hudson, Holmes went out and whistled for a cab.

"The Diogenes Club." Holmes ducked into the cab rather quickly, for it had begun to rain. As he sank back in the overstuffed seat, he wondered how the questions he had for his brother should be phrased. When the cab came to a halt, Holmes got out and paid the cabbie. Truth be told, he had no more of an idea how to approach his brother than he had before. He finally came to the conclusion that directness would be best. By this time, he was being conducted to the Stranger's Room, where Mycroft would join him. Holmes just had time to settle himself in a chair opposite the fire, when the door opened and Mycroft strode in.

"Hello, brother mine." He offered his brother some brandy and biscuits. They were eagerly accepted, as Holmes had not breakfasted yet.

"This looks serious, Sherlock. What did you need to ask me about?"

Briefly, Holmes told him of the morning's events. Knowing that he would want to see it, Holmes handed him the note he had found on Watson's pillow.

"The note is signed P. Moriarty. I thought you might be able to tell me who she is."

"P. Moriarty? A sister, perhaps?"

"I have no idea, but I am quite certain that I will find out tonight."

"You are not going......."

"I cannot see how I can retrieve a living Watson otherwise, do you?"

"Sadly, no I do not. But to endanger yourself so....."

"Brother mine, he would do the same for me, and do it unflinchingly. I cannot do less for him."

"It seems that your course is set."

Mycroft had just drawn breath to say something else, but the door opened at that moment. A young man walked hurriedly to Mycroft and whispered something to him. Mycroft rose and addressed his brother.

"Sherlock, I am needed at my office now. Please come by later, and I may have more to tell you. Will you do this?"

"Of course. Forewarned is forearmed, as Father used to tell us. Till later, brother mine."

When he left, Holmes hailed a cab that took him to Scotland Yard. Holmes went to Lestrade's office and knocked.

"Come in."

"Thank you, Inspector. I wanted to see how the case you took me on was progressing, and to bring you up to date on some new developments."

"New developments? What has happened?"

"He recounted the story yet again,and handed him the note.

"I think that we should go over to Dr. Palmer's and make certain that he and his family are all right," said Holmes.

"I think you're right," agreed the smaller man.

A growler took them to Dr. Palmer's surgery, which took up

the first floor of his home.

When no one answered their insistent knocking, Holmes kicked the door in.

Dr. Palmer and his wife lay in the middle of the living room floor. Lestrade ran to them, and Holmes took a quick look around for their two children. There was no sign of them.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N- Sorry for not posting for a bit, life does have a way of putting our plans on hold. Enjoy!

The Warning, Chapter the Sixteenth

Holmes returned to Lestrade, who had just put Mrs. Palmer on the couch and was returning to Dr. Palmer's side. He groaned, and with an effort, opened his eyes.

"Who....."He sat up quickly, and then leaned heavily against the Inspector. "Did you get them?"he asked, looking searchingly at Lestrade's eyes.

"No, we only arrived here ourselves a moment ago. What happened here, can you tell me?"

"My cousin had taken the children to Southsea to visit for a week. She had left only a quarter of an hour ago with them. My wife and I were making arrangements to go away somewhere when they got here. They shoved their way in, and looked for the children. While the man did that, the woman asked us where they were, and they beat us for not telling them. They were furious with us. I don't know what else they had planned. You must have scared them away. Eliza, how is she?"

"Your wife seems uninjured, but quite bruised. Stay still, we have a doctor on the way. You know Dr. Bailey, do you not?"

"Yes. Yes, I do." Dr. Palmer lay back, and was still.

A few minutes later, Lestrade let Dr. Bailey in. Then Holmes and Lestrade went into the spacious kitchen and sat opposite each other at the table.

"Well, Holmes? I guess that I am not going to convince you not to go tonight, am I?"

"No, Inspector. I do not want to argue about this."

"As we have established that you are going, let us make some preparations for your safety."

There is very little we can do, for I am not willing to endanger Dr. Watson further. I am to go ALONE and UNARMED tonight."

"But, Holmes..."

"As I have stated, I refuse to do other than the letter states."

Lestrade opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Dr. Bailey softly clearing his throat at the kitchen door.

"Come in. How are the doctor and his wife?"asked Holmes.

"Better than they would have been if you two gentlemen had not shown up. The doctor's injuries are more severe than his wife's. This is not for lack of trying on someone's part, but because he tried to shield her from as many blows as possible. With a lot of rest and a quiet recovery period, they should be fine." His face grew even more troubled. "This was a most odd attack. It was calculated to cause a great deal of pain without actually causing a great deal of damage. Were you aware that they were also stuck with pins and burned with cigarettes? As I have said before, you interrupted their ordeal just in time. Both of them are resting now."

"Thank you, Doctor. Since they are in no condition to do so for themselves, I think we need to arrange for them to be elsewhere,"observed Holmes.

"Clea and I can put them up for a few days,"volunteered Lestrade.

"Lestrade, these people are very dangerous."

"I know. But I don't think anyone is going to bother them with Clea and the boys around, do you?"

"No, you are quite right. I will leave this matter in your capable hands. I must see Mycroft, since he may have some information for me."

"Holmes, be careful. If there is anything I can do, just say the word."

"I shall, thank you. Good day, Inspector."

Holmes left and whistled for a cab. It stopped, and he gave the driver the address. With a click of the cabbie's tongue, they were off. Holmes sat back and soon was lost in his own thoughts, which kept wandering back to Watson. How was he? What had these fiends done to him? Would he be rescuing a corpse tonight? And how was he to go about it, in any case?

His reverie was brought to an abrupt halt when they arrived at Mycroft's office. Holmes paid the driver and headed up the steps to the offices. To his surprise, Mycroft was waiting for him in the lobby.

"Brother mine, I have some news for you. I hope it helps. Come in, follow me."

He led his brother to a large office. Seating himself behind a massive desk, he motioned his brother to a chair opposite him.

"Well? What did you find out?"

" Well, it just so happened that this P. Moriarty has been the focus of an investigation of a sensitive nature. Please understand that if it were anyone except you, I would not be able to divulge this information."

"I see. What sort of investigation was it?"

"Anyone with any sort of tie to the late Professor, and anyone he kept in contact with was in the scope of this investigation."

"And what did this investigation tell us about P. Moriarty?"

"I was coming to that. P. Moriarty was the Professor's mistress, and just before he left for the Continent, he made her his wife. Besides the fact that she is quite elusive when she wants to be, we know little about her."

"Is that all you can tell me?"

"Sadly, it is. Be careful, Sherlock."

The detective took leave of his brother. As he walked to the curb to call for a cab, an elderly woman approached Holmes. "You are off on a dangerous mission tonight, sir. Take this." She pressed what looked like an ordinary stone into his hand. Then she melted into the thick grey fog before Holmes had a chance to reply.

Holmes whistled for a cab. He instructed the cabbie to let him off at the old Rossburn Cemetery.

Somehow the ride to the cemetery seemed to be shorter than the trip in the police growler. Was that really only a few days ago?

The driver seemed eager to collect his fare and get out of such eerie surroundings.

Holmes passed the sundial that was not too far from the mausoleum. With a deep but quiet breath, he descended the steps and entered the mausoleum.

A/N To all those who read and reviewed, I thank you. And thank you, Medcat, for vetting this story.


	17. Chapter 17

The Warning, Chapter the Seventeenth

The first thing that Holmes saw when his eyes adjusted to the eerie light provided by the flickering candles was Watson. He had been tied to a chair beside Grandmama's coffin.

A weak whisper reached his ears. It was Watson.

"Holmes, go back. It's a trap."

"I rather thought that it would be, old fellow. Are you all right?"

"I'm all right, Holmes."

Holmes hurriedly untied his friend and led him to the door. Holmes opened it, and felt an explosion of pain in the back of his head. Watson, who had been leaning heavily on Holmes, fell, and felt himself being roughly hauled to his feet.

"Did you really think it would be THAT easy?" a woman's voice asked, as its owner emerged from the shadows by the door. Watson looked up, and was mildly surprised to see that she wore male attire.

Watson felt hands on his shoulders. They propelled him to his recently vacated chair.

"Make sure our guests are tied securely,"said the woman. The man obeyed as the woman held a gun pointed directly at Holmes. " Don't struggle, Doctor, or I'll shoot your friend, and at this distance, I can't miss." she said.

Another chair was placed behind the one which Watson was occupying, so that they were sitting back-to-back. Holmes was deposited in the empty chair and likewise secured. He spluttered when water was thrown in his face.

"Ah, I see you are awake," said Mrs. Moriarty.

"Why are you doing this?" Holmes spoke in a voice weak enough for Watson to be concerned.

"All in good time. I'm not finished yet. I still have to kill your friend. Then I'll answer any questions that you have."

"Leave Watson out of this, Mrs. Moriarty. Yes, I know who you are. Your business is with me—and no one else."

"No, I don't see it that way. Things are working out well for me. You do not appear to be doing so well, though."

As she spoke, Holmes was quietly trying to escape his bonds. While he was doing so, he found that he had something in his hand. It was the stone that the old lady had slipped into his hand earlier. Holmes could have sworn that it was in his pocked. It also had a very sharp edge to it that Holmes had not noticed before. The stone cut his ropes like a hot knife through butter.

Watson's bonds took a little longer, but the ropes finally loosened, and fell away. There was not very much light, which the detective was very thankful for. It ensured that their escape attempts went unnoticed.

Mrs. Moriarty was pacing back and forth, trying to build up her courage, observed Holmes. She stopped in front of Watson.

"Holmes, you took away someone very dear to me. Now I shall return the favour. Say good-bye to your Boswell.

She held her gun to Watson's head. The cocking of the gun was deafening inside the small chamber.

Suddenly, Grandmama's coffin slowly opened with a loud screech.

That was when Mrs. Moriarty's nerve broke, and she ran outside shrieking. Her partner raised his hands and was tied to a chair, with no resistance.

Holmes left Watson in the mausoleum and dashed outside in an attempt to catch Mrs. Moriarty. He had gone about five feet when he came across Inspector Lestrade, who was handcuffing a struggling Mrs. Moriarty.

"Her partner is presently tied to a chair in the mausoleum. Inspector, I am sincerely glad to see you here."

While Holmes was outside, Watson's curiosity got the better of him. He approached the coffin and with great trepidation, looked inside.

Alfie and several young Irregulars looked back, proudly grinning from ear to ear.

I hope that you have as much fun reading this as I did putting it together. Kudos to all who read and reviewed. Medcat, thank you for vetting this.


	18. Chapter 18

The Warning, Chapter the Eighteenth

Several hours later, Holmes, Watson, and Lestrade finally arrived at Baker Street. Statements had been taken and both miscreants were in custody. All three gentlemen were glad to relax in comfortable chairs before the fire. Watson poured them each a brandy before he sat down.

There was a tap at the door. Holmes opened the door, and Mrs. Hudson entered with a tray. It was laden with a late supper for three.

"I thought you might like this," said Mrs. Hudson. " I 'm so glad to see you, I don't know whether to yell at you for taking such chances, or hug you!" She was back in her element now, and she loved it.

"Just keep your voice down, please. My head is simply killing me," muttered Holmes.

To his surprise, Mrs. Hudson hugged him, and went to answer the door, which shook in the frame under a volley of insistent knocks.

Mrs. Hudson opened the door and showed a rather soaked Mycroft up to the sitting-room.

"Brother mine, please sit down. Pray, what has moved you to visit me?"

To everyone's surprise, the elder Holmes caught the younger Holmes' hand in both of his own. "I am very glad that this dreadful business is at an end, and that you are safe. I would not ask you to look into this affair so soon after your exertions of tonight, but I have been given no choice."

"You have a case for me to look into, then? It must be important."

"Yes, I do, and it is. Do you remember the last time you visited the Diogenes club? I was called to my office because one of our agents was found dead under strange circumstances. I was also told to give you the particulars of this case as soon as possible. Furthermore, I am to advise you that looking into this case is not optional."

"You know that I dislike being ordered about, especially when it is about a case. Who am I working for?"

" The British government."

"I see. Well, what are the facts surrounding this case?"

"It took place in a castle with the unlikely name of Castle Cartwright. Two agents stayed there overnight. The one agent did not come down for breakfast the next day. Because the agent was known for his punctuality, the other agent went to his room to check on him. When there was no response to his knocking, he entered the room. He found the other agent still abed, and when he went to wake him, he saw a great deal of blood. The man had been stabbed. Since the room had carpet in it, some wet footprints were clearly visible. They started at the balcony, went through the French doors, and ended by the bed. No weapon was found."

" Are there any suspects so far?"

"Yes, there are, but you are going to think I am joking with you."

"Why is that?"

"Because, brother mine, the chief suspect is a ghost!"

A/N- A great big thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. I hope you enjoyed the story. Medcat, thank you for vetting it for me. The case that Mycroft is referring to is continued under the title The Case of the Vindictive Spirit.


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